


A Page out of Your Book

by Nylocke



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Duelling, Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Room of Requirement, Wizard Duel, midnight shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2018-04-23
Packaged: 2019-04-26 15:07:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14404683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nylocke/pseuds/Nylocke
Summary: Duel. Room of Requirement. Midnight. Come alone.





	A Page out of Your Book

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, readers! It's been a while since I've written anything with any type of action scene, but practice makes perfect, so here we are! I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Many many thanks to my friends, Justin and HopelessFujoshi, for beta reading this for me and encouraging me to post something here once again. 
> 
> As always, thanks for reading!

_Duel. Room of Requirement. Midnight. Come alone._

Harry blinked at the handwriting that scrawled itself across the top of his parchment. He squinted, then rubbed his eyes, then squinted harder. The delicate cursive writing remained, the message still clear. He hadn’t imagined it.

Harry glanced around the lecture hall nervously. Ron hadn’t noticed--the puddle of drool that collected on Ron’s own parchment indicated that he had been dozing for some time. He never seemed to be able to keep himself awake during their History of Magic lectures. Harry’s eyes quickly darted across the room, towards where the Slytherins sat. Sure enough, Draco Malfoy sat eyeing him, lips curled into his typical sneer. Harry’s eyes narrowed in response, which only seemed to prompt Malfoy’s stupid lips to curl even more. Disgusted, Harry’s eyes fell to his parchment, where he continued to pretend to take notes, his own jagged handwriting starkly contrasting the delicate letters that still traced his page.

~* *~

At half past eleven, Harry shuffled out of his bed as silently as he could. He had gotten into bed in his clothes, and slipped his feet into the shoes beside his bed. He grabbed his wand from his nightstand, as well as his glasses. After tip-toeing across the dormitory with bated breath, he descended the staircase delicately. The last few embers of the common room fire flickered and cracked in the darkness, casting shadows up the walls. Harry had almost made it to the door when he heard a soft cough, and he jumped nearly a metre in the air. He whipped around, muttering an instinctive lumos and lighting the room in front of him. Ron’s head poked up over the back of the couch, wearing a sheepish grin. Harry suppressed a groan, which then came out as a slow sigh.

“Hey, Ron.”

“Out for a moonlight stroll, mate?” Ron’s sheepishness practically dripped into his voice. Harry tried to ignore the pang of guilt in his gut.

“Er, yeah, yeah, that’s right. Just some fresh air, you know? Feeling a bit…”

Ron’s grin widened with understanding. “Under the weather?”

“Yeah, er, under the weather,” Harry agreed. “Er, what are you…?”

“Wondering why you went to bed in your trousers,” Ron admitted. Another sigh escaped Harry’s lips. He had been firmly under the impression that no one had seen him, especially not one of his best friends.

“Listen, Ron, I-”

“No worries, mate,” Ron said, then feigned an exaggerated yawn. “I was feeling a bit tired tonight, anyway. Not in the moonlight mood.”

Harry smiled gratefully at his friend. “Feel better soon, mate,” he said with a wave, then ducked through the portrait hole, shrugging his invisibility cloak over his shoulders.

Making his way to the seventh floor corridor, Harry wondered what Malfoy could possibly want, dueling at this hour. Surely, something must have prompted the Slytherin to challenge him. Perhaps it had simply been too long since their last altercation; if anything, Malfoy seemed to be avoiding him more than antagonizing him since the beginning of the new year. He felt the corners of his lips turn up into a smirk. Not that he’d ever admit it, but it was a bit irritating that Malfoy didn’t seem to want anything to do with him.

Upon reaching the familiar corridor of the seventh floor, Harry thought for a moment. Should he go in? Was Malfoy already inside? Should he wait outside for Malfoy to show up? After a few moments of consideration, Harry made up his mind and paced three times in front of the wall, brow furrowed as he focused on a room fit for dueling Malfoy. After his third pass, a dark oak door appeared, and Harry, shrugging the invisibility cloak off his shoulders, reached out for the bronze handle. It seemed he had made the right decision; upon entering the room, he found Malfoy waiting with a self-obsessed smirk dancing on his lips. Harry couldn’t wait to blast it off.

“Potter,” Malfoy practically spat, twirling his wand deftly in his hand. Harry snarled.

“Malfoy.”

“Glad you showed. I was firmly under the impression that you’d chicken out.”

Harry let out a laugh. “I was thinking the same of you.”

Malfoy’s smirk widened, but his eyes narrowed coldy. “Ready, then?”

“Hold on,” Harry took a step forward, causing Malfoy’s eyebrow to arch up. Harry was thoroughly convinced that Malfoy plucked them every morning. “What’s this about?”

Malfoy sneered. “What happened, Potter? Thought you were a man of action. Didn’t think you’d need some sort of elaborate explanation. Can’t two students have a casual duel?”

Harry thought to himself that there were a few school rules that were specifically against students “casually” duelling, but he simply chuckled. They had both broken more than their fair share of school rules. “When have we ever done anything casual, Malfoy? Come on, what’s going on in that hideous brain of yours?”

Malfoy pretended to examine his wand. “Thought you might have gone soft over the summer,” he muttered. Harry wasn’t entirely convinced, but he simply rolled his eyes and brought his wand up.

“Fine,” he said, and he bowed curtly, though he didn’t break eye contact. Malfoy sneered again, bowing in a similar manner, grey eyes stormy.

“That’s more like it,” he murmured. “ _Stupefy!_ ”

Harry deftly ducked out of the way, countering with a spell of his own; “ _Expelliarmus!_ ”

Draco flicked the spell away with a harsh laugh. “Really, Potter? Predictable!” He shouted, and a slicing spell whizzed past Harry’s ear. Harry straightened, eyes flashing around the room with sudden adrenaline-fueled clarity. It really was perfect for dueling--a high, arching ceiling over a circular, black marble room. There weren’t any obstacles Harry could find to hide behind--or fling at Draco. He narrowly avoided another hex, bringing his attention back to his opponent. Draco let out another high-pitched laugh. “Keep up, Potter! Didn’t anyone teach you not to daydream during a duel?”

Harry flung a _Flipendo_ towards Draco, succeeded quickly by another, anticipating Draco’s dodge. The second hit Draco square in his puffed-out chest, sending him flying back with an undignified grunt. It was Harry’s turn to bark out a laugh as Draco picked himself up off the floor, strands of his slicked back, silvery blonde hair slipping in front of his face.

Harry winced as his ankle twisted underneath him, and he stumbled as the binding spell Draco cast on his leg pulled his weight out from under him. He threw up a shield charm just in time as another hex nearly took out his eye, and he used another slicing spell to cut his leg free, stumbling to his feet.

The two circled each other for a moment, wands raised, eyes locked. Electricity crackled in the air as Draco shouted another spell, striking Harry with a sickening _crack_. He cried out, but cut himself off, gritting his teeth as he flung a ball of fire towards Draco. The Slytherin boy had to fling himself to the ground to avoid it, though it singed the hood of his robe on his way down. A heavy wave of water crashed down upon Harry, knocking him to the ground before he could take advantage of Draco’s prone position.

“ _Reducto!_ ”

Several chunks of debris from the ceiling crashed down around Harry, who quickly flung his arms over his face. By the time the dust had settled enough for him to see, Draco was standing over him, wand pointed menacingly at his chest as a wicked grin painted itself over his pale face. “Patheti-”

Draco lurched forward as Harry’s leg caught his with a wild kick, sending him to the floor once more with a harsh thud. Harry caught his arm on the way down, and Draco’s wand clattered across the marble floor as it spun from his grasp. He threw his weight onto Draco’s chest, effectively pinning him to the floor beneath them. A whine escaped Draco’s lips as he attempted to throw Harry off, but to no avail. Harry felt a smirk begin to creep onto his face as he reached for his wand--

\--which was missing. Panic struck him as his eyes darted around the room; sure enough, his wand lay out of reach, knocked out of his hand by the earlier wave of water and washed several feet away.

Malfoy laughed hoarsely, out of breath. “What’s wrong, Potter? You look as though you’ve seen a banshee.”

Harry gritted his teeth, glancing down at Malfoy. He tightened his grasp on Malfoy’s arm, causing the other boy to gasp. Harry’s mind raced as he thought about his options: as the adrenaline waned, he noticed that his leg was seriously twisted, and his shoulder ached sharply from some impact or another. He could make a dash for it, but Malfoy’s wand was closer, and he’d risk being vulnerable as he turned his back to his opponent. On the other hand, he _needed_ it to technically win…

“A draw, then,” Malfoy hissed, struggling vainly against Harry’s iron grip on his arm. Harry looked down at him again, noticing the sweat on his brow, and the strands of platinum hair that had plastered themselves to Malfoy’s forehead. He breathed shallowly through parted lips, and Harry suddenly became very aware of the position they were in. He let his grip relax, but he held the Slytherin’s arm firm.

“Draw,” he conceded, “but you have to promise not to hex me as soon as I go to retrieve my wand.”

Malfoy scoffed. “Honestly, Potter, what kind of wizard do you take me for?”

“The worst kind,” Harry muttered, and he grunted as he lifted himself off of Malfoy. He backed away towards his wand, not taking his eyes off Malfoy, who winced as he got up.

“I would have won, though,” Malfoy sulked as he retrieved his own wand. A familiar pout tugged at the corners of his lips. “I had you. You kicked me.”

Harry laughed curtly. “That was your own fault,” he retorted. “You didn’t have to stand within kicking range.”

Malfoy’s pout turned into a full-on scowl. He muttered something about “real wizards don’t kick,” which caused Harry to chuckle low in his throat. He scooped up his invisibility cloak as he made his way to the door, leaving Malfoy alone in the Room of Requirement.

~* *~

_Rematch. Same place, same time. Come alone._

Harry groaned in exasperation, letting his head fall into his hand as he read the words writing themselves across his parchment. He was already fed up with studying--late nights in the library were hardly his favorite thing.  
Hermione lowered her book, peering at Harry over the top of it. “Honestly, Harry, you don’t have to complain every five minutes.”

“No, it’s not that,” Harry waved his hand dismissively. He shuffled the parchment into his bag before Hermione spotted the cursive script. “I’m just… Er, I think i’m going to turn in for the night.”

Hermione frowned. “The exam is in three days, Harry. Are you quite sure you’re going to be ready?”

“Positive,” Harry grumbled. He shoved his books into his bag and stood, stretching his back as he did. “Thanks for all your help, Hermione.”

Hermione smiled as he turned to go. He cast his gaze about the room, searching for the source of the magical lettering, though he found hide nor hair of Malfoy in the library. He shook his head and let a sigh pass over his lips as he headed up to the seventh floor. He figured being a tad bit early would be the least of his problems.

He waited in the dueling room for over an hour, lazily flipping through his textbook as if simply opening it would implant the knowledge in his brain--Merlin knows he wasn’t reading any of the information. Finally, the door creaked open, and the slender form of Draco Malfoy slipped into the Room of Requirement.

“About time you got here,” Harry called, sarcasm oozing from his tongue. Malfoy scoffed.

“It’s not my fault you decided to wait in here,” Malfoy shot back. “Couldn’t wait to see me, Potter?”

“You wish.” Harry shuffled his book back into his bag and got to his feet. He tossed the bag to the side of the room, where it fell with a loud thump. Malfoy sneered.

“Well, shall we get on with it then?” he asked, drawing his wand. Harry drew his own with a confident gleam in his eyes. Rather than respond, Harry simply bowed, lower than their first duel, though he still refused to break eye contact. Draco grinned viciously as he matched Harry’s bow.

“ _Confringo!_ ” Harry hurled the spell towards Draco before the blonde had even finished his bow. Flames danced through the air, narrowly avoiding Draco’s head as the boy leapt out of the way. He tossed an equally large ball of fire towards Harry, who blocked it with a wave of water. Draco braced himself against it, managing to stay on his feet as the wave rushed over him. His eyes narrowed dangerously at his opponent, who simply shrugged.

“Took a page out of your book,” Harry said innocently.

Draco cast a furious string of curses and hexes, one after the other, in broad, sweeping motions of his wand. Harry gritted his teeth as he attempted to dodge them, though a slicing charm caught his arm, and a _Confundus_ hit him right in the head. The world swayed for a moment, haze filling the corners of his vision. He staggered, shaking his head to clear the fog. A third spell caught him square in the chest, and a jolt of electricity tore through him. He cried out, barely managing to stay on his feet, though the electricity seemed to clear the fog from his mind. He locked eyes with Draco, and repelled a spell back towards the Slytherin. It caught Draco by surprise, sending him reeling backwards as it caught his shoulder. Tiny, purple stones began to spread across his shoulder from where the spell hit, restricting his movement. Draco shrieked in terror, casting a few panicked charms to stop the crystals from spreading. Harry seized this opportunity.

“ _Stupefy!_ ” he shouted, and Draco looked up just in time to throw up a shield, though it was sloppy, and the spell broke through, knocking Draco to the floor. He took a few bold steps forward, checking to see if Draco had been knocked unconscious. He realized his mistake too late--it seemed that the shield had weakened the spell, as Draco was _very_ conscious, sending a bolt of blue light towards Harry, which froze his feet where they stood. Draco was up again, boldly striding towards where Harry stood, stuck in place.

“ _Expelliarmus_ ,” Harry shouted. Draco’s wand was wrenched from his hand, and it clattered across the marble floor. But Draco’s stride didn’t waver--he grabbed Harry’s wand arm by the wrist and thrust his whole weight into the Gryffindor, taking them both to the ground. He smirked with wicked satisfaction, Harry effectively pinned beneath him as his wand rolled across the floor, out of reach. Harry clenched his jaw, emerald eyes ablaze.

“Took a page out of your book,” Malfoy hissed, leaning in close. Harry felt his breath hitch in his chest. He twisted beneath Malfoy’s grip, teeth gritted.

“Another draw, then,” Harry growled. Malfoy hummed behind his wicked grin.

“I suppose that’s true,” he replied, voice dripping with venom, “though, I must say, I do like the outcome of this draw _much_ more than the previous one. Don’t you?”

Harry struggled under Malfoy’s weight in a failed attempt to throw him off. “Oh, it’s the highlight of my week, really.” He glared up at Malfoy, whose stormy eyes crackled with something mysterious. Harry found himself out of breath once more. “Honestly, Malfoy, get _off_.”

Malfoy hummed again, low in his throat, sending a shiver down Harry’s spine. “Why should I?”

Harry sighed and let himself slump, head resting on the floor. “You never told me why we’re even dueling in the first place.”

Malfoy shifted his weight to lean back slightly. “Yes, I did,” he insisted. “I thought you might have gone soft over the summer.”

“Ah, right, yes. That was _entirely_ convincing,” Harry said with an exaggerated roll of his eyes. “Seriously. What’s this about?”

Draco bit his lip, and Harry had to shake about a thousand thoughts from his mind as he found himself breathless once more. _Easy, Potter_.

“Maybe there doesn’t have to be a reason. Did you think about that?”

“I did. For about half a second. Come on, Malfoy, this isn’t like you. Last time we duelled properly was, what, second year? You’re too much of a Slytherin.”

Draco frowned harshly. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he hissed, leaning in low once again as he tightened his grip. Harry tensed.

“You go off and manipulate people into doing what you want; you don’t challenge them to duel without _some_ sort of ulterior motive,” Harry replied, determined to hold his ground. He watched Draco’s jaw clench under pale skin.

“Maybe you’re thinking too much about it,” Draco murmured, voice low in his throat. He smirked again, eyes narrowing with satisfaction at the goosebumps that quickly spread over Harry’s skin. Without another word, he was on his feet again, proud strides carrying him out of the room as he left Harry laying on the floor behind him.

~* *~

“Nora Wilberts says that Jaclyn Kessler says that Craggory Dills says that Leon Fillips says that Pansy Parkinson says that Draco Malfoy says that he beat you in a duel!”

Harry blinked, the rush of words barely registering in his mind. He had just sat down for breakfast in the Great Hall, and already Colin Creevey was spewing information at the speed of a Firebolt. He took a deep breath.

“Slow down. Malfoy said _what_?”

“He beat you in a duel! Is that true?”

Harry stood up suddenly, sending Colin’s eyebrows flying up towards his hairline.

“Where is he?”

“Kerry said that Millie said that he was going down for a walk by the lake. Why?”

Harry had already started walking, breakfast abandoned behind him.

~* *~

“If you’re going to challenge me to ridiculous midnight duels, the least you can do is keep them secret,” Harry bit out as he approached the lake. Malfoy turned to glance at him over his shoulder, smug grin plastered on his face.

“Well, I sort of won, didn’t I? I came out on top, after all.”

“Then I technically won the first,” Harry pointed out. “And besides, those aren’t the official rules, and you know it.”

Malfoy clucked his tongue condescendingly, causing Harry to bristle. It took nearly all his will not to send Malfoy flying backwards into the lake with a single jinx.

“Did you come all this way just to tell me off? I didn’t realize you cared so much, Potter.”

Harry bit his lip. He couldn’t help but notice that Draco’s eyes flickered downwards as he did, but he chased the thought from his mind. Malfoy smiled unctuously.

“Look, if it means that much to you, then we’ll have another rematch, and I’ll win, so, technically, I won’t have lied. Deal?”

Harry laughed coldly, closing the distance between them in a few bold strides. “Oh, we’ll rematch, but I’d reconsider your story for when people ask you how you ended up in the hospital wing.”

Malfoy sneered, but there was a trace of fear in his eyes as they flickered over Harry’s face. Harry almost felt a twinge of guilt. Almost.

“You’re on, then. The usual?”

“The usual.”

~* *~

“You’re late,” Malfoy called as Harry entered the Room of Requirement.

“Oh, I didn’t realize you wanted to see me so badly,” Harry said dryly.

“Always a pleasure, Potter.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Let’s get on with it, then,” he said, drawing his wand--just in time; he threw up a shield charm as a bolt of blue flew at him from across the room. Harry laughed, his heart racing from the surprise attack. “Really? Not even a proper bow? What would your father say?”

In response, another jinx shattered his shield, and a third followed quickly, punching Harry in the gut. He staggered backwards, clutching his stomach. Thank Merlin he wasn’t bleeding. He fired off a barrage of slicing spells, a few of which glanced across Malfoy’s face and hands, leaving thin, red lines.

_No…_

Harry’s momentary guilt was enough to give Malfoy an advantage as he fired off a stunner, which Harry narrowly dodged. It caught the side of his head as he ducked, stinging wildly and sending stars behind his eyes.

“What’s this? Perfect Potter’s lost his touch?”

Harry fired off a wave of lightning in retaliation. Malfoy narrowly deflected, letting slip some choice words his father would not be proud to hear. He threw back a wave of thunder, which clapped deafeningly in Harry’s ears. He clutched his head, vision going white from the noise for a moment. A moment was all Draco needed, and a thin rope shot from the tip of his wand, winding its way around Harry’s legs. Harry cursed and fell to the ground before he was able to cast a freeing charm. Draco was relentless, firing a barrage of wasps in Harry’s direction. With a startled yelp, Harry cast a quick charm, setting fire to the conjured insects.

A dark, murky ring of magic emmentated from Draco, and Harry scuttled backwards, narrowly avoiding it as it vibrated menacingly in the air. It seemed to take a lot out of him, though--as it fell, Draco all but collapsed, and he clutched at his chest.

“Draco--?”

As Harry stepped forward towards his foe, he felt his legs snap together and straighten out, flat as boards. He crumbled to the ground with a few choice words of his own. Before he could cast the countercharm, however, his wand wrenched itself from his grasp and flew across the room with a bolt of red light. Harry looked up at Draco in a panic, the extent of his vulnerability setting in quickly.

“Took a page out of your book,” Draco hissed through gritted teeth. His lips pulled back into a vicious grin. “You let your guard down, Potter. Foolish.”

Harry snarled, eyes darting to where his wand lay on the floor. If he could just get to it somehow…

Suddenly, Draco was on top of him, forcing him onto his stomach as he twisted an arm behind his back. Harry gasped as Draco pressed his weight onto him, pinning him to the floor mercilessly, and he felt Draco’s wand jab into the back of his neck. Harry lay still, barely daring to breathe, as Draco chuckled triumphantly above him.

“Well, Potter, it seems that I’m the victor,” he purred, breathless, and Harry shuddered despite himself. Draco laughed again. “This really is quite fun, don’t you think?” Harry threw his weight at Draco as best he could, feebly attempting to buck him off, but Draco merely laughed again.

“Alright. You win. I concede. Are you happy?” Harry spat.

“I am, thank you for asking,” Draco practically cooed. “I can tell you’re not so upset about it yourself,” he added, and Harry realized he was blushing. He struggled against Malfoy as best he could without proper use of his legs, prompting another bout of laughter from the Slytherin. Malfoy stopped, however, and leaned closer over Harry’s ear. “It wasn’t really a victory, though, was it? Most opponents wouldn’t let their guard down like that during a real fight. Am I wrong?”

“What are you getting at, Malfoy?”

“Interesting,” Malfoy continued, “that you called me ‘Draco’ back then. What was that about, Potter? I hadn’t realized we were on a first name basis.”

“What was that spell?” Harry growled, reaching for a diversion. “The one you used before you collapsed.”

Harry could practically feel Malfoy sneering above him. “A decoy.”

“What?”

“It was a harmless sensory effect. I feigned collapse to see what you’d do. Gryffindors get particularly spooked around anything that might look like Dark Magic, don’t you agree?”

Harry cursed under his breath.

“Really, Potter, I hadn’t realized you cared so much about my wellbeing,” Malfoy prodded. “Anyway, now I haven’t lied to the entire school, see? I’ve beaten you in a duel.” He pressed his want further into Harry’s throat. Harry struggled once more, more out of defiance than a genuine attempt to free himself.

“One more rematch,” Harry offered. “Tomorrow. Get those gashes on your face looked at--they look hideous.”

“I’d be careful who you call hideous,” Draco warned, dragging the tip of his wand across Harry’s jaw. “One more rematch,” he agreed.

~* *~

Harry was more than ready for Malfoy during the next duel. He had been practicing spells all day, and he cast them with a newfound vigor, sending curse after jinx after hex hurtling towards Malfoy, who barely got a hit in edgewise. He grimaced, baring his teeth, as he was finally backed up against a wall. One final spell broke through his shield, and Malfoy found his wand magically wrought from his grasp, flying across the room as he looked on in dismay. Harry stood, a triumphant grin on his face as he pointed his wand directly at Malfoy’s throat.

“There. No kicking, no muggle tricks. A good, clean, wizard duel, just like you wanted. And I’m the victor,” Harry said, green eyes boring into Malfoy’s. Malfoy’s lips curled into a snarl, but his eyes nervously searched Harry’s face. Perhaps for some trace of pity. Harry hoped none showed.

“Fine. I concede. Give me my wand back, Potter.”

“Now, hang on a moment,” Harry replied, raising a hand. Malfoy rolled his eyes. “I think I’d rather like to know about your newfound interest in dueling, Malfoy.”

Malfoy sighed, slumping against the wall. “I’d really rather not talk about it,” he murmured.

“I don’t think you happen to be in any position to refuse.”

Malfoy rolled his eyes with an exasperated groan. “Merlin, Potter, I’m not _up_ to anything! I just… who better to practice with than Perfect Potter?”

Harry blinked as he processed. “What, so you just wanted a practice dummy?”

“Well, you fit the ‘dummy’ requirement well enough,” Malfoy shot back with a steely glare. “Look, I just… could you put your wand down for _one second_?”

“Alright, let me ask you this,” Harry replied, ignoring Malfoy’s request. “If all you wanted was a bit of spell-chucking practise, why did you trick me last time?” Malfoy bit his lip, and Harry failed to pretend he didn’t notice. “You said it yourself: that would never happen in a real duel.”

“Potter, you really are dense, aren’t you?”

Harry blinked. “I--what?”

Malfoy rolled his eyes again. “Come here. Put your stupid wand down and come over here.”

Harry obeyed, unsure of what exactly made his feet carry him to where Draco stood. He just… _needed_ to know, though he couldn’t figure out exactly why. He stood in front of Draco, staring intensely into his grey eyes.

“Hold out your arm.”

Again, Harry obliged, extending his arm towards Draco. “Malfoy, what are you--?”

Without warning, Draco slipped his hand into Harry’s. The world froze for a moment, and Harry could feel the blush rising to his cheeks. He sputtered rather ungraciously.

“Malfoy, what are you _doing_?” Harry made an attempt to wrench his hand away, but Draco’s slender hands were surprisingly strong. A knowing smirk curled Malfoy’s lips, and Harry wondered if the Room of Requirement would allow him to sink into the floor and disappear forever. Still, he gritted his teeth, unwilling to allow Malfoy to get the better of him. He pulled Malfoy’s arm back, slamming it into the wall beside Malfoy’s head. He smiled wickedly at the shocked look on Malfoy’s face, which was accompanied by a flush of pink above Malfoy’s sharp cheekbones.

“What are _you_ doing?” Malfoy hissed.

“Taking a page out of your book.”

Whatever had gotten into Harry next, he would never know. His lips met Draco’s before he had even realized he had moved, and he heard Draco gasp in alarm beneath the kiss. Alarmed, Harry made to step back, but Draco clutched the front of Harry’s robes, pulling him close once again. Harry’s lips parted almost instinctively, and cursed himself for doing so when Draco’s teeth playfully dug into his lower lip--he’d never live that one down. He felt Draco’s hand squeeze his own before the blonde pulled away, resting his head on the wall behind him. Draco smiled, something between wonder and smugness, as his grey eyes stared deeply into Harry’s. Draco--damn him--bit his lip, and Harry felt the blood rush to his cheeks.

“Er, well, um--”

“Don’t talk, Potter.”

Harry made to step back once more, but Draco tightened his grasp on Harry’s hand, keeping him close.

“You kissed me first,” Draco teased. Harry bristled.

“You held my bloody hand first,” Harry muttered, brow furrowing. Draco chuckled, but a trace of pink rose to his cheeks.

“Same time tomorrow?” Draco asked cooly, though Harry could hear the twinge of expectancy hanging off the end of his words.

“Yeah. I reckon that would be alright.”

**Author's Note:**

> Again, thank you so much for reading! If you want to contact me, you can message me at ocarinaenthusiast.tumblr.com. Cheers!


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